


It Takes an Army to Raise a Sparkling

by EvalynnMesserli



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Domestic, Domestic Wartime, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Transformer Sparklings, Village Raising a Child, Wartime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22392322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvalynnMesserli/pseuds/EvalynnMesserli
Summary: The Autobots thought the hardest part of this war would be facing their former allies in battle or fighting to survive and win the war, but with a single discovery, that thought is flipped upside down. Turns out, raising a sparkling in the middle of a war may even be harder.They wouldn't give it up for the world.
Relationships: Autobots & Bumblebee (Transformers), Bumblebee & Optimus Prime, Elita One/Optimus Prime, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	It Takes an Army to Raise a Sparkling

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't know what exactly this is or where it is going, but here it is. I just like sparklings and Bumblebee. So yeah. Enjoy.

Chapter One: Discovery in the Con Base

Prowl liked the quiet. It was easy to focus when there wasn’t constant noise and chatter surrounding him. Some bots were good at tuning out background noise, but sadly, not him. He had the stupid habit of latching onto what others are saying and following their conversations even if he was trying to work on something else. This is why he always did his reports alone. He could focus his entire attention onto them and get his best work done.

He knew the silence wouldn’t last much longer. Jazz and his team were coming back from a mission any time now if all went according to plan and as much as he loved his friend, Prowl was fully aware of the fact that Jazz was a complete chatterbox when off duty. Considering the fact that he thought giving reports was an off-duty event and liked to give them verbally and the fact that Prowl was the one who would receive his mission report this time around, the blessed silence wouldn’t last long at all and Prowl savored every klik.

“Heya, Prowler!” Jazz said suddenly, grinning as he strode into the office, shattering Prowl’s peace and quiet. He was covered in gunk and grime, but look pretty undamaged all things considered. Prowl wasn’t worried about any hidden injuries as Jazz wasn’t a complete idiot who would hide anything. Though being honest, some of that might come from a fear of bringing down Ratchet’s fury onto him. Either way, Prowl wasn’t concerned or even overly interested in Jazz’s appearance. Instead, he was much more curious about the little bundle of blankets gently cradled in the crook of one of Jazz’s arms.

“Jazz,” Prowl greeted, a small smile spreading across his faceplates. “You’re late.”

“Had some stuff I needed to take care of first.”

“Well, the mission went well, I presume?”

“Sure did,” Jazz told him as he lowered himself into one of the chairs in front of Prowl’s desk. “Cons didn’t even see us coming.”

“And the data?”

Jazz pulled a datapad out of his subspace and lightly tossed it onto the desk. “All downloaded on there,” he said as Prowl picked it up and turned it on, finding a screen full of garbled symbols. “Cons updated their code a bit so we’ll have to crack it first, but that shouldn’t take too long.”

“Good, good. And everyone’s condition?”

“Mirage is going to need a new hand but other than some bumps and skorched plating, everyone else made it out fine and in one piece.”

“I’m glad everyone got out safely. We truly are fortunate for it.”

“Yeah it is. Now mind telling me what’s bugging your processor?” Jazz gave him a look. “You’re normally not this talkative during mission reports.”

Prowl rolled his optics but didn’t keep his curiosity in check any longer. “Alright, fine,” he pointed at the bundle in Jazz’s arm. “What exactly is that?”

Jazz’s lazy grin grew into one of excitement as he leaned forward, shifting the bundle to his servos and placing it gently on the desk. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said as he gestured for Prowl to uncover whatever it was.

Prowl carefully began removing the blankets, remembering how Jazz had handled the bundle before. He doesn’t know what to expect, but he’s guessing it’s something fragile.

The first thing he felt was warmth. 

A gentle, soft heat floated over the sensors in his digits just a klik before he made contact with something with a smoother and more solid texture than the blankets surrounding it. Putting a tiny bit of pressure on it revealed that it was slightly squishy. There were little indents on it that quickly and rhymically pulsed and had more heat than the rest of it. Prowl’s curiosity only rose as he cupped the round object in his servo and pulled it out of it’s nest of woven metal. What he laid optics on had his vent stalling.

“I-is this…?” 

“Yeah, it is,” Jazz nodded. “And he’s healthy too. Had Ratchet look over him when I first got back.”

Prowl cradled the precious little discovery close. “Where did you find him?”

“Con base. From the looks of it he’d just emerged and been found shortly before we got there.”

“Do you know what they were planning to do with him?”

“Probably going to try and raise him to be a soldier,” Jazz leaned forward and reached out, softly rubbing the warm little sphere with one of his digits. “Though “raise” might be giving them too much credit. I doubt he would have been loved and taken care of like he deserves.”

“He’s so small…”

“Isn’t he? Ratchet thinks he might be a minibot, though he could just be short.”

Prowl gave him a look. “So like you?”

“Oh shut it!” Jazz laughed. “Like you’re any taller!”

Prowl snickered. There wasn’t much difference in height between the two of them, but Prowl was ever so slightly taller and he would continue to tease Jazz about it until they both went offline. 

Jazz just shook his helm while rolling his optics, which got another chuckle out of Prowl, but neither were able to keep their attention off of the little one still safely nestled in Prowl’s servos.

“So,” Jazz said after a few moments of awed silence, “what are we gonna do with him?”

“We’ll probably leave the decision up to Prime.”

Jazz’s grin widened. “Well then, looks like we have a new member.”

Optimus Prime was a renown soft-spark. They both knew the second he laid optics on the little one, he’d be completely entranced and gladly take him in. It was just the way he was, not that many faulted him for it.

Suddenly, there was a request for entry from Prime at the door. Prowl glanced at Jazz and saw the knowing smirk on his face, telling him that he had timed this perfectly and they hadn’t just summoned Prime by speaking his name. Prowl never believed those rumors of his abilities, but moments like these occasionally seemed too coincidental.

Prowl quickly granted the request and stood at attention as the Autobot leader strode into the room, bringing an air of calm authority with him. “Prime,” he greeted with a respectful dip of his helm. Jazz remained sitting, only moving to lean back in his seat.

“Heya, Prime!” he drawled, lifting his servo to do a quick salute, completely relaxed and at ease.

“Hello, Prowl. Jazz,” he said with a smile in his voice as the door closed behind him. “I see you’re both doing well. Now, was there a reason you needed...to…”

Prime was frozen, starting at Prowl’s servos. “Is that...a sparkling?” he asked softly, coming closer to see the little protoform. The small pale gray ball pulsed faintly, the glow of his spark able to be seen through the thin and malleable metal.

“Sure is,” Jazz told him. “Found him in the Con base in their medbay. Ratchet said it looked like he’d just emerged a cycle or two before we got there.”

“Thank Primus he was discovered by you,” Prime mumumered, carefully taking the little sparkling from Prowl and holding him close to his chestplates, digits lightly rubbing over the soft plating. “Who knows what they would have put him through.”

“Nothing that he actually deserves, I can tell ya that,” Jazz said, frowning slightly at the thought. 

There was a brief silence as Optimus caressed the protoform, lovingly watching the little ball pulse in response to the attention and stimuli. Prowl and Jazz shared a look. The little one already had Prime wrapped around his currently non-existent digit.

“Prime,” Prowl spoke up after a few moments to grab his leader’s attention, continuing when Prime finally tore his optics off of the little one. “Jazz called you here so we ask what exactly we should do with the sparkling.”

Prime stared at him as if what he was asking had an obvious answer. In a way it did, but Prowl had to make sure. It never did good to jump to conclusions, especially not about other bots’ opinions and decisions. No matter how likely they were.

“He’ll be living with us of course,” Optimus told them. “We can’t very well abandon him.”

“Good thing I anticipated that then.” Jazz stood and stretched his arms above his helm. “He already had a check up and Ratchet says he’s healthy, though he’s gonna need a fuel transfer soon. The medics are able to do that but they’ll turn on tanks for anyone who’s willin’. I also got Grapple and Brawn workin’ on a recharge chamber for him and I was just about to go ask for volunteers for sparkling-watch and see if Prowl could make a schedule for that.” Jazz was pacing as he spoke, showing what some would call a rare glimpse of the reason he was not only the head of special operations, but also the third-in-command of the Autobots as a whole. “I know Arcee has a history in teachin’, so she’ll be in charge of gettin’ that all set up for him and he’ll need trainin’ when he gets old enough for self-defense at the very least. Of course we’ll also need to find a way to get him some toys, but I’m sure we’ll think of something.” He stopped suddenly and looked at the other two mechs. “We really should give the little bit a designation.”

Prowl shook his helm slightly, having been caught up in making a mental list for everything Jazz had said in order to start adding it to the base’s schedule. “Designation?”

“Well, yeah. We can’t just call him “the Sparkling” after all. Little one needs a designation.”

Prime hummed quietly, digits lightly dancing over the protoform, making it pulse faster. A low humming noise filled the air, stopping when Prime lifted his digits away. It returned when he continued his caresses. 

“Seems he likes ya, Prime,” Jazz teased.

Prime chuckled. “I’m glad,” he murmured, stroking the bitlet, “because I like you too.” He moved to sit in the chair that Jazz had abandoned, just barely able to fit. Luckily Prowl had reenforced it to bear Prime’s weight.

“You’re such a tiny little thing, aren’t you?” he continued. “So small, so fragile. You really shouldn’t have emerged into this world. It’s much too dangerous and harsh at the moment. You did though, and so I’ll do whatever I can to protect you.”

Jazz and Prowl watched silently. Prowl felt almost as if he was intruding on something private and intimate, something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“I promise I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe and give you a happy life full of love.” Prime brought the sparkling up to his face as he removed his mask, making the optics of his observers widen in surprise. He never took his mask off.

Prime pressed a soft kiss to the delicate sparkling and smiled in adoration. “Welcome home,” he whispered almost too quietly to be heard, “my little Bumblebee.”


End file.
